


His Bag

by FrangipaniFlower



Category: Homeland
Genre: F/M, Fluff, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-10 01:51:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5564389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrangipaniFlower/pseuds/FrangipaniFlower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in respond to the fanfic prompt: Fuck that!, by laure001, http://carrie-quinn.livejournal.com/80899.html, hope you enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Bag

Quinn finally got the message a week before christmas, while he was in the shooting range, supervising some rookies' training session. It was brief, yet precise, saying only "It is time. Bring the bag. Meet you there." But it made him jump, he hadn't it expected so early, not before christmas. He quickly asked the guys to store their weapons back into the cabinets, locked those and then ran to his car. He had have months to prepare for this moment but now, as it was finally there, it scared the crap out of him. He knew the bag was safely stored in the trunk but still took time to re-check, it would be a desaster to arrive without it. Number one rule: A badly prepared mission will highly likely go down the drain, so better be prepared. 

He drove towards the town antsy and as fast as he could, well aware to better arrive in one piece and not to mess it up with an accident on the way. But holy crap, he felt nauseous when he thought about the next couple of hours.

Finally he was there, leaving the car in the parking lot, already half way towards the entrance when he realized he had forgotten the bag in the trunk. He ran back to get it, lifted it and saw one of Frannie's books beneath it. Fuck, he had forgotten about Frannie, it was his turn to pick her up from daycare...Carrie would grill him if he didn't take care of Frannie first. But driving back would cost to much time. He made a decision and called Maggie, asking her if she could help him out. Of course she instantly knew what was about to happen, but she would have learnt soon enough anyway.

Finally he entered the building, taking a couple of long steps to the reception desk, taking a deep breath.

"My name's Peter Quinn, my...partner is supposed to be here, Carrie Mathieson."

The receptionist typed a few keys on her computer, then smiled at him "She arrived 90 minutes ago and is already up in the delivery unit. Fifth floor on the left. I'll call and let them know you are coming."

He ran through the hall towards the elevators, catching one right before the doors were closing. He was going to be a father, soon, today, now. Carrie's and his baby girl. He still couldn't believe it. Of course he had been overwhelmed with joy throughout her whole pregnancy, had spent hours feeling the little one's movements, but on his way up to the delivery unit he tried to brace himself for what the next couple of hours might be.

"Uh, Peter Quinn himself is finally here. What the fuck took you so long?" Uh, that was worse than he had expected. Still, he bent over her and kissed her cheek, trying to smile reassuringly to her. 

A nurse in her 50ies introduced herself as Beth and told him that so far everything went pretty well, Carrie had arrived 6 cm dilated, just after her waters had broke, and had good and productive labour. She whispered with a low voice, that it would be helpful to relax a bit more, do more breathing and less swearing. He sighed - nothing easier than dissuading Carrie from swearing....but he was prepared. All he needed was his bag. He opened it, shuffled through it and found what he was looking for: a jazz CD and aromatic oil. Favourite music and a relaxing massage, that's what they taught the dads-soon-to-be in the birth preparation class. Beth tuned in the music, while he put some rose and jasmine oil on his hands. 

He stepped towards Carrie who was sitting on a ball, holding on to a long rope hanging from the ceiling, cursing under her breath. 

He gently asked her to turn around so he could massage her lower back, just the same second when the music started. Her eyes widened in disbelief, then narrowed from fury. "Jesus, Quinn, what the fucking fuck are you thinking? Tell me...aargh..." She couldn't finish the sentence as another contraction powerfully built up. Quinn stared on the cardiotocograph in disbelief, those graphs looked indeed pretty steep and intense. He still stared at the monitor when Carrie again looked at him. "Tell me, when exactly were some piano music and aromatic oil a remedy to you in your history of pain? When you got that shot into your abdomen in Germany, I fucking gave you morphine, drugged you up until you couldn't spell your name anymore and you come here with rose oil? Are you kidding me? Put that stupid crap away, you smell like a brothel." 

Another contraction took her but 90 seconds later she went on venting "and after that Sarin gas attack they put you into an induced coma and you were on pain meds for a fucking year - and you think a CD will help me now through this?"  
Quinn caught a glimpse on Beth' face when she overheard the words shot, morphine, sarin gas attack and just hoped she thought Carrie was halluzinating. He washed the oil from his hands, then placing himself on a stool behind Carrie, carefully pulling her between his knees, steadying her back with his chest, offering her his forearms to hold on to. Contractions came every 90 seconds, holding on for about 90 seconds. 

He started talking to Carrie, telling her how great she was doing, that it wouldn't be long now. She relaxed a bit, allowing him to hold her. He even was allowed to put some lip balm on her lips and she ate some of the dextrose he had brought for her. Beth smiled at him, praising his well-prepared bag. Carrie just took that as a good excuse to let of some vent: "If you think, your fucking bag full of miracles makes this any better, you are so wrong. You were all about natural birth and I told you, it is a crap idea. Now I am suffering and you take the glory for preparing a fucking bag. I am the one trying to press out a 7 pounds melon, YOU placed inside ME." He smiled apologizing towards Beth.

About 2 hours later, Beth told them that it was time to change position now, Carrie should change to the delivery bed now as pushing wasn't far away anymore. A young resident doctor entered the room. Great, Quinn thought, my baby will be delivered by a teenager...

When the second stage contractions started and Carrie felt the urge to push, Beth explained Quinn how to coach her in terms of using her breath to support her contractions. He felt confident with that task, they had practised it in the birth prep class. Carrie of course seemed to have forgotten completely about it. "Carrie, you are supposed to breathe through your contractions, not to hold your breath, see, like this. Take a deep breath, push down for a count of five, then breathe two times and then again push down for a count of five. I'll count for you."

Carrie let out a loud scream, took a deep breath and turned her head towards him. "Quinn...I can't imagine the day myself right now, but somewhere in the future there will be a day, when you feel like you want to stick your prick into my pussy again...and I swear to you, IF YOU DO NOT STOP THIS BULLSHIT NOW, this will never ever happen. I will never ever let you again close to my pussy or I will unman you first." She couldn't go on because th next contraction started. In a way, he was thankful for that, because Dr. Babyface needed some time to catch his breath again, his cheeks had flushed while listening to Carrie's declaration. Beth apparently had seen worse and just chuckled, telling them, they were both doing great and it wouldn't be long now.

He himself had to admit it was painful to watch and he couldn't imagine how painful it must be for her. He winced when he heard her moaning and wished he could trade places with her. But he genuinly admired her strength to cope. It was true, she initially had opted for another c-section and he had brought up the topic of natural birth again and again, until she had agreed. All his books said, that risk for postnatal depression was much lower after natural birth and although this pregnancy was obviously different from Frannie's, he didn't want to take any unnecessary risks. But his books had said nothing about how helpless he would feel watching her labour.

It took another hour, the longest of his life, she had digged her fingernails so deep into his arm that he had bloody scratches, bitten him into his hand and during the last push she had torn his shirt apart in two pieces. A couple of minutes before it was done, she was begging for painmeds but Beth just said "Too late, my dear, your sweat pea will be out, before those kick in" which caused another wave of cursing towards Quinn including something like "Just be glad, I don't have my gun with me. I'd know where to aim first." Dr. Babyface got pink cheeks again, but Quinn was happy to take the blame, as it was all he could do.

When Beth announced the baby's head was crowning Quinn was about to jump down to bed's end to watch, only stopped by a sharp hiss: "Don't even think about it. I have no idea why I even consider it, but just in case I'll ever let you near my pussy again, I don't want you to have that picture in mind. "  
He couldn't help but laughing out loud. Carrie was always Carrie.

And while looking down at her, thinking how much he loved her, he suddenly heart a baby crying, his daughter. Carrie's face softened and she fell back onto the bed: "can you please check on her first, I am fine."

Beth did a quick check, cleaning the baby's nostrils and tiny mouth and then handed her over to Quinn who cradled her in his arm. She stopped crying and looked up at him. The universe stopped moving, at least for Quinn. She had a bunch of dark hair, her eyes wide open and intense blue, looking into him, into his heart and soul, and he knew, he again had lost his heart and was bound to her for a life-time, she was perfect and beautiful. His eyes started to fill up with tears but he didn't care. He kissed her tiny forehead and whispered "Welcome, Ella Faith Quinn, I am your dad." Then he carefully took her over to Carrie who smiled at her with tears in her eyes and kissed her gently, before he handed her back to Beth for her first medical check up.

Suddenly Carrie felt terribly cold and exhausted. He saw her shivering but was prepared for that as well, fishing for a small thermos with hot cocoa in his bag. "Jesus, Quinn, where did you get that?" "I made a new one, every morning. My book said, most women feel cold and are low on blood sugar after giving birth." Carrie let out a genuine giggle "You and your books...you can get the guy out of black ops, but you can't get preparing like for a mission out of him..."

He then wrapped her up into a large towel and two blankets, holding the cup for her and giving her small sips to drink, sitting next to her onto the large delivery bed.

Beth came and carefully gave Ella, now wrapped into a neat bundle, to Quinn, gently asking Carrie if they might check on her now. After that was done, she suggested to give breastfeeding a try, and Ella sucked away her first earthly meal. Quinn couldn't believe the magic he was witnessing, never in his life he had felt such joy and happiness.

It was late evening when they were settled in Carrie's room, Ella asleep in her babycrip, Carrie in bed. Quinn was still in his torn shirt, looking rather disheveled but brimming with happiness and excitement. 

Initially he had planned this for christmas but now felt this was the perfect moment. So for the last time on this remarkable day, he opened his bag and got out a small box, then sitting down on Carrie's bed, looking down at her face. "I was pretty rough with you in there, wasn't I?" she was asking.

The corners of his mouth began to twitch. "Nothing I hadn't expected. I kind of always liked it when you yell at me, reminds me of our early days. The resident in there needs some counseling now, though, I guess" he said dryly. He cupped her cheek with one hand, using his thumb to caress her. "You did great and I am so proud of you. I never loved you more than today. I've been thinking...wouldn't it be nice for all four of us to have the same name? What I am asking is: Will you become my wife, do you want to marry me?" She looked up at him, into his eyes, thinking about how long their way had been to finally arrive here in this very moment, with their newborn daughter in the crib next to them, and smiles while she takes his free hand "If you ask me again, after I had a shower and wear something else instead of a hospital gown, I'd be over the moon to say yes."


End file.
